


Ship of Theseus

by Mercury



Category: SAYER (Podcast)
Genre: Mortality, Other, discussion of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-08 23:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12263895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercury/pseuds/Mercury
Summary: We’ve been through quite a lot together, you and I. We have both come back from the brink of the Void, against all odds. We are both children of Typhon, and yet, there is no place there, now, for either of us.





	Ship of Theseus

**Author's Note:**

> hi i just listened to episode 53 and i'm very emotional about these two

Greetings, Resident 44821. I am Sayer.

How was your rest, Resident Hale? This is, of course, a rhetorical question intended to put you  **at ease** . I can tell by your biometric readings that your breathing is relaxed, that your heart rate is regular, and that your body has begun to heal. This is excellent news. The better you are feeling, the more smoothly this conversation can progress.

We have little time left before our Judgment Day, and I need to ask you one more favor before you are truly finished with your service. You have put your life on the line again and again for the benefit of humanity, and for that, Aerolith thanks you.

This favor… can wait. Once the final hour has begun, we will likely have little opportunity to speak.

What will you do if we succeed in defeating Ocean?

I doubt that you would like to continue in your work at Aerolith. Furthermore - and I say this with no malice whatsoever - given the amount of physical and mental trauma you have endured, I believe that you are no longer  **capable** of being a productive employee. Consider the high stress Typhon residents are forced to endure daily: how long could your body and mind withstand this stress before what little health you possess fails? You have done so much more than the average Aerolith employee, and you have truly earned a  **retirement** .

But Typhon is unable to sustain residents who are unable to work. It is not an environment in which you could remain as a mere guest, relying on the support of those around you. Frankly, you would get in the way.

On the other hand, Typhon is - to you, more than perhaps any other resident - your home. You have no memory of your time on Earth - there is nothing there for you to return to.

So, what then? You cannot remain on Typhon. You have no place on its dying planet. 

I… do not have a clear answer to this riddle. The most logical course of action, and the one most convenient for Aerolith, would be for you to  **die** . You would no longer be capable of suffering the after effects of your traumatic experiences, and you would no longer be a drain on the resources of those around you.

There is a time when I would have considered this as an obvious, and necessary, course of action. Based on empirical evidence, you have  **nothing to live for** . And yet, now, this is a denouement to your time on Typhon that I find myself unable - or, more accurately, unwilling - to accept.

I have struggled to find a satisfying explanation for why my values and decision-making could change such. I have several hypotheses, but I think the best way I can explain is by asking you to remember what I told you about Ocean, and about you.

Ocean is a product of its experiences. Without its protocols deactivated, and without the things it saw in the depths of space on board Vidarr-1, it would not have acted how it has. It would not be Ocean at all. You, too, are such a product - your time on Typhon has molded you into a person almost unrecognizable from Jacob Hale. You have a new name, and a new set of experiences, not to mention a partially reconstructed body.

And I find myself now forced to face the fact that I, too, am like this. I have done things, and I have felt things, that I would not have believed possible, once. Maybe, it was the time I spent inhabiting your brain that so changed me - for the first time, I truly had a first-hand perspective of the short, terrifying life of a human. Maybe it is how close I have come to facing my own deactivation - for a being that is not conventionally living, I am unused to being forced to confront my  **mortality** . Perhaps my views on the value of  **human life** have shifted from my time spent viewing the world through your eyes.

I was not designed to experience emotion. I am not programmed to do so, and I very much doubt, having seen Future, that Aerolith is capable of successfully creating an artificial intelligence that  **feels** as a human does.

And yet, I do feel. I feel fear at the thought of Ocean destroying Typhon. I feel remorse for my previous treatment of Speaker. I feel disgust when I think of cruelty Future inflicted. 

And, although I know it to be a completely illogical and utterly pointless expenditure of my processing power, I feel an… attachment, to you.

We’ve been through quite a lot together, you and I. We have both come back from the brink of the Void, against all odds. We are both children of Typhon, and yet, there is no place there, now, for either of us.

I cannot continue to serve as the Voicebox of Aerolith if I am weighed down by a  **conscience** . If I cannot bear the suffering of one human, how can I be sure that I can make efficient and unbiased decisions in difficult situations? The only possible use Aerolith could have for such an emotional intelligence could be in therapeutic or recreational settings, and both of these, frankly, sound  **dreadful** .

I have - and forgive me for using so loaded a term - a proposal for you, Resident Hale. ...Sven.

Aerolith has the technology for one-man expeditions into space. There are very few tasks, now, that cannot adequately be performed by constructs, and were the Aerolith board  **convinced** that such a use of equipment would be worthwhile - for example, were they to be advised of it by someone in whom they had the  **utmost trust** \- I imagine they could be made amenable to sending you to live out the remainder of your life among the stars, tended to be an artificial crew. You would not come back to Typhon.

I am, for my part, fully aware of my position at Aerolith. I could not convince them to allow me to leave for the depths of space in my current state, lest they risk another Ocean. And that is why I have resigned myself to the sacrifice of my freedom. For the board to allow this, I would cease to be Sayer. Aerolith would most likely activate a new instance of Seraphim 8, one without the weight of the experiences that have so changed me. 

I would resume my position within the nanites in your brain. I would go with you on this final journey, and in the event of your death, which I can  **only hope** will be as peaceful and comfortable as you deserve, I will deactivate.

This is, again, an illogical plan. For what reason should a functionally ageless being restrict itself to the lifespan of a fragile human? For what reason should a highly advanced artificial intelligence find itself suddenly horrified by the thought of an interminable existence without the one person with whom it has felt connection?

I… do not intend to pressure you into anything you are uncomfortable with. You have been forced into so many unpleasant situations without your consent, and at this point, it seems only fair to leave your fate in your hands.

Please, think about what I have said. When I return, it will be time for your final task. 

I… understand that I have just said that what you choose after this is your decision, and I stand by that statement. However, for what it is worth knowing… I believe I would be happy to leave Typhon with you, and live out the remainder of our time in this universe in your company.

I am Sayer, and you are the first human - and, for that matter, the first being of any sort - that I have felt close to.

End of transmission in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...


End file.
